


Living for the Greater Good

by lokilette



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-17
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-04-04 21:03:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4152873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lokilette/pseuds/lokilette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Albus and Gellert are both pulled to Godric's Hollow, they never would have expected what they find there or how much the dingy, little town changes their lives. Even as their worlds begin to crumble, they refuse to let it destroy them. A collection of 10 one-shots describing their life together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Godric's Hollow

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: This was originally written for the Battleships Challenge on Fanfiction.net. I sailed the S.S. The Greater Good, which is Albus Dumbledore/Gellert Grindelwald, so this is a 10-part collection of one-shots that highlight moments in their life together. Pieces are dated, to make it easier. For this piece, the prompt was first meeting.

**[1899]**

"Where should we go first?" Albus spread the map out on the table of their room in the Leaky Caldron as he spoke. There were twinkling stars marking their intended destinations. It was a bit flamboyant, perhaps, but the circumstances warranted it. This was his chance to escape the infernal grasp of Godric's Hollow, once and for all. "What about Egypt? Lots of history there, plenty to see. We could visit the wizarding communities in the desert. Or we could go to the Amazon. Imagine the things we could discover in the rainforest!"

Elphias pulled himself up to sit on the edge of the table, wrinkling the map in the process, and Albus shoved him back off with a huff, smoothing out the parchment.

"What about Romania?" Elphias asked, pointing to one of the twinkling dots in Europe. "We could go see the dragons."

"We've  _seen_  dragons before. We should start this trip off with something more grandiose than that."

"All right, how about Greece? Lots of history there, too. You never know what we might find. We could study the Chimaeras for a bit. From a distance, of course."

Greece? It certainly was ancient enough and had plenty of history to explore. It had birthed quite a number of powerful wizards—Herpo the Foul, Andros the Invincible, and a plethora of famous Seers. It was also regarded as a place of many firsts, including both the initial Basilisk and the first Animagus. Perfectly suitable to be the primary destination of what promised to be a Grand Tour, as well.

"Greece it is!" he declared, tapping the map lightly with his wand. It immediately shuddered and began tucking itself back into a small, tidy rectangle that he then stuck back in his robes.

Elphias pulled himself back onto the now-vacant table and kicked his legs hard against the wood, creating a drumbeat bass for their conversation.

"Mykonos," he sighed dreamily. "Just imagine all the big-shots who are likely vacationing there this time of year. Think I can gain some political clout while I'm there? Work on getting connections?"

"If anyone can, it'd be you. You're the smoothest talker I know."

Albus pulled a journal out of his bag and thumbed through it. Little was truly known about the Chimerae, and even his notes on the subject were pitifully sparse. Still, he wondered if it was possible to tame one. Or a whole group of them, even. They would make powerful allies, in any case, and an interesting study. Oh, sure, they were classified as XXXXX and were well-known wizard killers, but he could hold his own just fine.

"Besides you, of course, is what you really mean."

Albus glanced up from his book to find Elphias staring at him with a goofy, lopsided grin plastered on his face.

"Don't sell yourself short, Elphias. While it may be true that you can't match me as far as magic is concerned, your people skills far outshine my own."

Elphias went to argue, but his words were drowned out by a sharp rapping on the window. With a frown, he ceased his kicking and slipped off the table.

"You don't think it's my mother again, do you?" he asked, frown deepening as he knitted his brows.

"You know she worries. After all, you're the last chance to keep the pure Doge line alive. If something happened to you, it'd go extinct. Can't have that."

"What's really going to do me in is all these owls. This is the fourth so far. Can you believe that? _Four_. In one day."

Albus shook his head and smiled, flipping his notes to 'Three-Headed Dogs.' They were rare and wondrous creatures, and, from what he had heard, Greece was the best place to find one.

When he glanced up, Elphias had paused in front of the window, hand outstretched, and Albus could almost feel the inner turmoil flash across the man's face. To open it, or not to open it.

"Go ahead. If you don't, the next thing she sends is likely to be a Howler."

With a reluctant sigh, Elphias pulled the window open, but the owl soared right past him.

"What's this?" Albus frowned at the letter that had been deposited in his lap. He picked it up gingerly, inspecting the frantic, scrawling print that addressed it to him. He'd recognize that lousy excuse for handwriting anywhere. Aberforth. For a second, he considered placing it aside and claiming that he never received any letters. But if it was important...

Against his better judgment, he opened it and began to attempt to decipher its contents. His brother's writing was worse than usual, but he had at least managed to keep the message brief.

_There's been an accident. Mum's dead. Come home._

His breathing staggered, and the walls of the room felt like they would crush him at any moment. Of all the sick jokes...of all the possible pranks...

"What's it say?"

Albus read the note again, and then reread it once more for good measure. No, this wasn't a prank. Aberforth was dimwitted, for sure, and impulsive, and mischievous, but he wasn't wicked.

"Albus? Are you all right?"

He glanced up at the voice and suddenly became aware that there was another person in the room. His hands were shaking, and he tried to steady them as he slipped the note back into its envelope. He had to go back. There was no avoiding it. They needed him.

"I'm afraid you'll have to go on a Grand Tour without me, Elphias." The calmness in his voice surprised Albus when all he really felt like was raging against everything. If he didn't control himself, if he didn't hold it all in, he was afraid the magic would come spilling out on its own accord, and the ensuing wreckage would be less than pretty. "It seems my mother has died. I need to return to Godric's Hollow."

Even as the words escaped, he barely believed they were true. It had been perfect, everything planned just so. If he could just break free, his brilliance would certainly lead to greatness. If only he could get out from the shadow the vexatious town cast, his genius could shine.

Every time he tried to stretch his wings, he was pulled back into that dank, festering hellhole. Albus was starting to get the feeling that he would waste away and eventually die before ever having the chance to escape Godric's Hollow.

**...o0o...**

Gellert stopped just outside the door, tracing the gold lettering with his eyes. He ran a hand through his long, blond curls, inhaling simultaneously to steady his nerves. Now was no time to misrepresent himself. It was important that he maintained his composure, regardless of what happened.

When he was positive he had collected himself, he knocked lightly and waited for the invitation to enter.

"You wanted to see me, Headmaster Hadzi?"

"Mr. Grindelwald. Please, sit."

The headmaster motioned to the chair across the desk from him, and Gellert acquiesced, folding his hands in his lap.

"It has come to my attention that you have been performing some...unsavory, shall we say...spells within my walls."

"I'm not sure I know what you mean, sir."

Gellert locked eyes with the old man, searching through the muddy-brown pools—probably so colored because he was full of shit—for any answers they might divulge. All he could determine was that this meeting wouldn't bode well for him.

"It's no secret that you've never been particularly good at following the rules..."

Gellert wanted to argue that he followed the ones that made sense. The rest were obviously written by incompetent gits who were likely inebriated, judging by the horrible logic that went into them. Instead, he bit his tongue.

"...but the rules  _are_  there for a reason. We pride ourselves on having a certain atmosphere here, one that is based on order."

"Have the other students complained of my so-called 'unsavory spells'?"

"Well...no, not explicitly."

"Do you have any proof other than rumors?"

"I have a student, who is stuck in a rather unfortunate phase of a botched Animagus transformation, who says that you used Dark magic to try to force her into becoming an Animagus."

Of course. He had been so sure that he had chosen his subjects carefully: all determined wizards who were interested in perfecting their knowledge of Dark Arts, regardless of what the cause entailed. Until one of them insisted on involving his rather lily-livered younger sister, whose magical prowess could fit in a thimble.

Gellert had accepted the challenge, only because she was the closest he could get to a Muggle without actually finding one. If he could amplify her magic, then there might just be something worth pursuing in that vein of research.

"I didn't force her to undergo anything, merely encouraged her academic pursuits."

"I'm sure you did."

The headmaster looked a lot like a rat, Gellert realized, as he leaned back in his chair and drummed his fingertips together. He had a long, gaunt face with high cheek bones and teeth that were clearly too large for his head, and the effect was only further highlighted by the way his smugness lent an eerie glow to his features.

"The problem, Mr. Grindelwald, is that this isn't your first transgression, and someone with your mentality poses a risk to the well-being of the school. I can't have students experimenting on each other."

"You have yet to prove that any of these rumored experiments ever occurred."

"The beauty of being headmaster is that I have no burden of proof. We are both well aware of the truth here, and you have no intention of yielding to any sort of authority. As such, I have no choice but to expel you from Durmstrang."

Gellert stood up stiffly, clenching every muscle in his body in an attempt to keep his composure. If he didn't, if he was unable to steel his emotions, the resulting wreckage would be impossible to explain away. He left the Headmaster's office without a word, convinced that the old codger wouldn't like any that he had to offer, anyway.

He left the school without looking back. There was no sense in arguing with his expulsion. It had been a long time in the making, with the way Hadzi both feared his wit and coveted his talent. That was fine. Durmstrang was holding him back from everything his future held, anyway.

Before he left the school grounds, Gellert made sure to leave his calling card on a wall of a school: a circle within a triangle with a line bisecting the two. Future generations would know he had been there, even long after he was gone.

Gellert turned his attention to the dank, festering hellhole that his great-aunt lived in: Godric's Hollow. There was surely something to be learned there, the resting place of one of the Peverell brothers, as long as he didn't wither away and die of boredom first.

**...o0o...**

Enough was enough. When Gellert could tolerate his great-aunt no longer, he made his way to the graveyard, where he knew the villagers were hesitant to go, drew his wand, and let the magic flow of its own free will. It emerged in explosions and bursts of flame, which he targeted at nearby leaves, relishing the way they shriveled and crackled in the quiet night.

**...o0o...**

Enough was enough. When Albus could tolerate his siblings no longer, he escaped into the cool, night air and trudged down Church Lane toward the graveyard. He had hoped to be alone, what with the rumors of it being haunted causing most to give it a wide berth. Instead, he was greeted by the intermittent flash of fire and the crackling of burning foliage.

**...o0o...**

"Do you have a grudge against that particular bush, or do you just enjoy setting random things on fire?"

"You object to my actions?"

There was a brief pause.

"No. Burn it all down, for all I care. It'd be the most interesting thing to happen around here in quite some time."

Two pairs of blue eyes locked with each other, warring over dominance, sizing the other up. Neither bent under the scrutiny; neither broke the connection.

Gellert smiled, slowly, and Albus followed suit.

"Gellert Grindelwald."

"Albus Dumbledore."

(The next day, they would be introduced formally by Bathilda Bagshot, and they played along because the night belonged to them, and the secret was theirs to keep. It was one of many they would share.)


	2. Father's Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: meeting the parents.

**[1899]**

"We're going to the back fields to take a walk."

"We?" Albus paused from his tidying to glance up at his siblings, who were both dressed to go out.

"Yeah. Me and Ari."

"Do you really think that's wise?"

"She's gettin' nervous. Fresh air'll do her good."

"That may be true, but, Merlin's beard, it's the middle of the day, Aberforth! It could be dangerous."

"What, you think I should bring the goats, too? Y'know, just in case? For protection 'n stuff?"

A small throbbing had taken up residence at the front of his skull, and Albus resisted the urge to massage the spot. Looking into the two sets of innocent eyes, his aggravation faltered. He didn't have the heart to tell them that he feared what Ariana might do more than he feared for her.

"Yes, Aberforth," he said with a soft sigh. "Take the goats with you, for the sake of my peace of mind."

What the dimwit imagined a couple of goats would do to afford them any amount of protection, Albus couldn't even begin to fathom. But the answer seemed to be exactly what Aberforth was waiting for, and he linked arms with their sister as he led her out the back.

Albus turned his attention to the mess in the living room, Levitating things back into their places. It had been a long night, and even with Aberforth there, it had taken a while to placate Ariana. She was just noticing their mother's absence, and she didn't like the change. None of them did.

As he was slipping the last bit of books onto their shelf, someone rapped on the front door—once, three times, then twice. He knew that knock. With a quick glance around the room, he concluded that it would have to do, and he opened the door to his guest.

"I'm afraid now's a bad time."

"Oh?" Gellert raised his eyebrows.

"I have things to take care of around here before I can go out."

"And your brother?"

"Already gone."

"Then I suppose it wouldn't hurt if I just come in, no?"

Before he had the chance to object, Gellert pushed his way inside, and Albus regretted his decision to go to bed last night before tidying up. Sure, the living room looked nice, but if one were to inspect the rest of the house...and, of course, Gellert would.

"Had an interesting night?" he asked, poking his head around the corner to study the overturned furniture in the kitchen.

"Would you believe I was redecorating?"

Albus didn't dare to look at his guest. There was a warmth creeping up his face, burning his cheeks, and he welcomed it almost as penance for his foolishness. What must Gellert think of him now, after seeing the house in such a condition? How far the Dumbledores had fallen in such a short time.

"If I did, I'd have to concede that you have rather unusual taste."

"As you can see, I'm quite busy," Albus said as he opened the door, hoping to rush the intruder out. He could feel eyes on the back of his neck, inspecting him, judging him, but he refused to turn around and meet them. Not like this. Not with all of his shortcomings splayed out across the kitchen and the study.

"Well, I suppose it can't be helped."

Albus breathed a sigh of relief at first, until he realized the wizard had no intention of leaving. He had drawn his wand—every bit as unique as its master—and was busy righting the kitchen table.

"What are you doing?"

"Helping you...redecorate. Clearly, you can't handle it on your own." With another flick of his wand, the chairs lifted themselves and tucked neatly back in their places like obedient children. "My assistance doesn't come free, of course. I'm rather interested in your thesis on the twelve uses of dragon blood, particularly where you found your specimens."

Albus' heart quickened, pumping him full of a peaceful warmth, despite his embarrassment.  _Everything will be fine._  He heard the sentiment loud and clear, regardless of the stillness in the room. It emanated from Gellert like an aura as Albus stepped beside him, finishing up the kitchen side-by-side.

"Then after this, I suppose, I'll answer any questions you have regarding it. It's the least I can do."

It was a pitiful attempt to patch up what was left of his pride, and Albus both detested it and was grateful for the opportunity. His mettle was worth more than playing babysitter and housekeeper. Regardless of how it tried—and oh did it try—he refused to allow Godric's Hollow rob him of that. Gellert, at the very least, understood his merits, and that fact was comforting.

They moved to the study, where the chaos was less pronounced. A toppled bookcase, some scattered papers. Nothing major. The kitchen and living room had borne the brunt of the assault. In no time, things were back in order, and Albus was more than ready to leave the wretched place for...anywhere. As long as it wasn't there. As long as he didn't have to be reminded of what was robbing him, with each passing second, of his future.

"Who are they?" Gellert asked, motioning towards a portrait on the wall where two figures fidgeted in their frame. The man put his arm around the woman, and she shrugged it off, but that didn't deter him from sneaking it back up moments later.

"My parents, Percival and Kendra Dumbledore."

"You look a lot like your father."

"Yes, and my siblings favored my mother. Though, we all inherited my father's eyes. It's sort of a Dumbledore tradition, I suppose you could say."

Gellert watched the photograph intently, and Albus found that he was intrigued by the wizard. The way he seemed to be trying to read the couple, even without words, like they were a mystery to be understood. What answers he was searching for, Albus couldn't discern, but he was most definitely looking for something.

"What about you?" Albus asked.

"Me?" Gellert wrenched his eyes away from the portrait as he frowned slightly. "My parents are dead, but I don't suppose I look much like either of them."

There was more, hidden under that calm, winsome facade, but Albus didn't press the issue; he had gathered his fair share of secrets, as well.

_(Later, he would discover a small photograph of a woman with high cheekbones and cascades of golden locks tucked into Gellert's robes. It seemed the young wizard had inherited his father's eyes, too.)_


	3. Making Magic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: a family outing.

**[1899]**

It was the perfect day for a picnic, though Albus wasn't particularly keen on the idea. Still, Ariana insisted, which meant that Aberforth was adamant they go. So Albus found himself sitting by a small pond in the back fields, picking dandelions and stringing them together.

"Look, Ari, I caught a frog," Aberforth said, opening his cupped hands just a smidgen so she could see inside.

"That's a toad," Albus said, glancing up just for a second before returning to what he was doing.

Aberforth frowned and peered into his hands for a moment before asking, "What's the difference?"

"The skin. Frogs have thin, smooth skin; toads have rough, thick skin."

Aberforth shrugged and released the toad before returning his attention back to his sister. They were playing tea party, because Ariana had insisted, with an old set of Mother's china. At first, Aberforth was hesitant to use it, but what did it matter? They weren't hosting any dinner parties anyway. Not that Mother ever had, either. The china had sat unused for the longest time, so it might as well have a purpose.

The grass behind them rustled, and Albus looked up to find Gellert approaching them. Aberforth had noticed, too, and out of the corner of his eye, Albus could see him frown.

"Mind if I join you?" Gellert asked.

"Yes," Aberforth said, his scowl deepening.

At the same time, Albus said, "No," and motioned for him to sit.

"It's OK, Ab. I don't mind," Ariana said lightly, pouring another round of imaginary tea. From the look on his face, Aberforth wasn't ready to let it go just yet, but he just clenched his jaw and glared daggers at the newcomer.

Gellert stretched out along the grass, leaning back onto his palms, and when their eyes met, Albus knew what he was thinking.  _Do they have to be here?_  Albus just shrugged and picked another dandelion.  _Family is family. What can you do?_

"Here you are, Ari," Albus said, slipping the ring of dandelions over her head as she squealed in delight. "A princess needs a crown, no? Hold still just a minute."

Albus pulled his wand out and cast a silent spell. In response, the dandelion crown began to grow, vines twisting around it to form a sturdy base. Various colored flowers bloomed from the vines—large blue and purple roses, yellow and green tulips, some smaller buds between them. It was a proper crown now, its magnificence mirrored only by the vibrancy of Ariana's smile.

"You seem to have quite a knack for Transfiguration," Gellert commented, and Albus merely looked at him sideways. It wasn't like this was the first time he had demonstrated his skills, but he knew that tone just the same. This was a challenge.

"I have to admit, I've always fancied myself a bit of a natural."

"To be fair, Transfiguration really isn't that difficult, is it?"

Albus loved the confidence in his voice, and the way it lent his face a boyish charm. A lopsided, self-assured smile played across Gellert's lips, and Albus felt his cheeks heat up. He was an extraordinary specimen of not just manhood but wizardry in general. And he was about to prove it. They both knew Albus was better at Transfiguration—it was no secret—but he decided to let Gellert win, just this once. It was amends for having to spend time with his family.

Albus nodded slightly and waved his hand in front of him, inviting Gellert to make his move, and the wizard slipped his wand out of his robe. With his free hand, Gellert uprooted a clump of grass and tossed the handful in the air. With a flick of his wand and a nonverbal spell, the air was filled with a plethora of colorful butterflies of all shapes and sizes. They bounced up and down on the light breeze, forming a sort of ballet around Ariana, who clapped in excitement.

Albus held out a long, slender finger, and a monarch alighted on it as he said, "Not bad."

"All right, it's my turn," Aberforth said as he pulled out his own wand. Albus wasn't surprised that he wanted to prove himself; he was a Dumbledore, too, after all.

"I'm surprised, Aberforth. You've never been much for Transfiguration," Albus said offhandedly.

"Transfiguration is stupid."

"It wouldn't be if you learned how to listen in class."

Aberforth scoffed, but he raised his wand just the same. Albus had to admit that he was curious what his brother would come up with. The boy's mind was an endless mystery, and he wasn't convinced Aberforth was always fully there. But, just the same, he was capable of interesting things from time to time.

He muttered a spell under his breath, not having mastered non-verbal spells yet, and the teapot shook for just a second before stilling.

Albus and Gellert exchanged looks, but Albus could only shrug. The inner workings of Aberforth's mind was as much a mystery to him as any sane person.

"Well, what do you think, Ari? Can I have some more tea?" Aberforth held his cup out and waited for his sister to pick up the teapot. When she tipped it over to fill his cup, it started to play music. It was a long, slow serenade, and Ari hesitated. A smile split her face, and she became quiet as she listened to the tune.

Albus knew that song well. Mother had a music box that Father gave her on the day they were wed, and she used to wind it up and listen to it every night before bed. Albus imagined being a single mother wasn't easy, but she had handled the loss of her husband as stoically as a woman as proud and noble as she was expected to. Still, even up until the day she died, she would listen to that music box. It was her secret connection to the man she loved.

When Aberforth glanced at him, seeking his approval, Albus nodded slightly and offered him a smile. Even he had to admit, it was nice work, and Ariana looked happier than she had in a while.

"I think we've lost," Albus said, glancing sideways at Gellert, who shrugged like it didn't matter. Silently, Albus knew he conceded the loss, too, even if he wouldn't readily admit it.

_(In reality, they had all won that day. Even Gellert, who, for the first time, regarded the younger Dumbledores with softness instead of contempt. Even Albus, who realized, for the first time, that he was in love and that it was OK.)_


	4. The Duel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: First date.

**[1899]**

"What does it even mean to be a Master of Death?" Albus asked. He was on his back staring at the clouds, only because he didn't dare lower his gaze. If he did, he knew he'd never be able to tear it away from his bare-foot companion, and staring was unbecoming for a young man.

"It means you control death, obviously. Do I have to go over this  _again_?"

He didn't have to, but Albus was going to make him anyway, if only to hear his voice. It was lovely and elegant. If Albus wound him up enough, the melody would play for a while like Albus' very own music box.

"Look, there's the Cloak of Invisibility." Albus glanced over as Gellert picked up a stick and drew a triangle in the dirt. Inside that, he made a circle. "And the Resurrection Stone. Then, the Elder Wand." He finished with a swipe down the middle of the two and took a small step back to gloat over his handiwork.

Albus had been reluctant to believe his ideas at first. After all, it was nothing more than a bedtime story Mother used to read and which Albus, in turn, had read to his siblings. But there _was_ a Peverell buried in the Godric's Hollow Cemetery with the same symbol engraved on his tombstone. If Albus could just get his hands on the Resurrection Stone...

"Yes, I understand that, but what does it  _mean_? The Peverell brothers all died in the end, obviously. One of them is buried just there." Albus pointed across the cemetery toward the grave he had spent the past few weeks studying, hoping to unravel its secrets.

"What does it me-" Gellert's lips pulled into a frown, and his forehead wrinkled as he searched for the proper words. Albus rather liked how emotive he was, how passionate, and how a simple question could ruffle his feathers. "Power, Albus. It means power. Of  _course_  you're not going to live forever. I mean who would believe...Did you even  _read_  the story?"

"A Stone to seek counsel from the past, a Wand to guard against the present, and a Cloak to carry you into the future. Yes?"

Albus pulled himself into a sitting position and looked innocently up at Gellert, who was frowning down at him. Albus tried to keep it in, but he couldn't stop the smirk that tugged at his lips, and Gellert's frown deepened in proportion. His countenance darkened, even as realization dawned in those beautiful, blue eyes. Albus waited for the tell-tale sign—a clenched jaw that accentuated the sharp angles of his face. It made the younger wizard look older and more mature.

"I suppose, if you want to romanticize it." Gellert grunted and launched the stick into the shrubs. He turned away, just for a moment, but there was no mistaking the clenched jaw; Albus knew he'd won.

"Well, there's obviously only one proper way to settle this," Gellert said as he turned back around, his features relaxing as he visibly steeled his emotions.

"Oh? What's that?" Albus cocked his eyebrows, allowing his gaze to linger—perhaps too long—on the mess of curls that bobbed in the wind, the high cheekbones, the strong, proud shoulders.

"A duel. If I win, you have to accompany me wherever I want. We'll be partners. We'll find the Hallows—together. No one would stand in our way."

Albus hesitated. Gellert was definitely the better dueler. It wasn't modesty; it was the simple truth of the matter. Still, Albus had no intention of bowing out of a challenge.

"And if I win?" he asked.

"Name your terms."

"An evening by the lake."

"You mean like a date?" Gellert raised his eyebrows, and a flicker of amusement lit his face.

Albus' cheeks heated up as he spluttered, "I didn't...Well, I mean, I..."

"Fine, but you should know that I have no intention of losing."

Albus nodded as he drew his wand, holding it at the ready. He waited for his opponent to do the same.

Gellert made the first move, and Albus recognized the white flash of a stunning spell as it broke against his  _protego_. The air was illuminated with colors as they spoke with their wands. It was a language that most wouldn't understand, but Albus heard loud and clear the message behind every movement.

_Don't take me lightly._

He recognized most of the spells as they were cast and responded accordingly—white, straight flashes for stuns could be easily blocked; brown swishes for explosions could be countered with the same to create small, harmless booms; green slashes for hexes should be dodged. Some of them, Albus couldn't identify. Had Gellert been creating his own spells? The thought wasn't that surprising.

_You're still underestimating me._

Time no longer existed. It simply didn't matter. There was nothing so beautiful as the harmony of two people locked in a duel, mimicking each other's movements. There was a simplistic sort of elegance in the fact that every action had a reaction and that each strategy could be predicted and planned for if you were good enough at reading the other person.

_I can read you like an open book._

Albus ducked to avoid a particularly nasty-looking, dark-green hex, only to tuck and roll away from a red slicing spell and hastily putting up a strong shield. Gellert was every bit a Dark Arts master, despite his age, and there was no way Albus could best him spell for spell. That left only strategy, which his opponent was no slouch at either.

Before Albus had a chance to calculate the next move, Gellert fired off a dark-purple spell that he didn't recognize. It broke harmlessly over Albus' shield, but at the same time, it emitted a cloud of thick, black smoke that swallowed him whole like the maw of a giant, hungry beast.

Without hesitation, Albus Apparated three meters to the right and then ran a few more paces to distance himself from where he appeared since Gellert was sure to follow the sound. To buy some more time, he cast a non-verbal  _Orchideous_  and threw up another barrier. Through the shower of orchid blooms, Albus could see Gellert shaking his head.

_Only you would attack me with flowers._

Gellert retaliated with a  _Lumos solem_ , and Albus put up a stronger shield as he fought against the blindness that hindered him. There was a second spell behind the flash—he should have anticipated that—but he was too slow to dodge it. The red spell sliced past his shoulder, laying the skin open in a wave of white-hot, searing pain.

Albus pushed it out of his mind and fired a  _Bombarda_ at Gellert's feet, the explosion kicking up rocks and knocking the wizard off-balance, even through his shield. With a flick of his wand, Albus transformed the debris in the air into a cyclone of monarchs, hundreds of them, swirling like a living curtain separating the two.

He focused on the tangle of vines at Gellert's feet and, with a silent  _Herbivicus_ , bid them to grow. They swelled and multiplied, twisting like pythons up towards his ankles, vaulting towards the sky. By the time the butterflies had cleared away, his torso had been engulfed by the green weed all the way up to his shoulders with his arms constricted at his sides.

Flicking his wand slightly, Gellert managed to slash enough of the plant away to where he was able to free himself from its grasp.

"I suppose you've won," he said as he brushed some stray leaves and dust off his clothes.

"I don't know if I'd say that. You didn't have very much trouble freeing yourself."

Gellert glanced at Albus sideways, lazily, like it was a hassle to have to explain himself. It probably was, but Albus was going to make him say it anyway.

"We both know that you had plenty of opportunity to finish it if you had chosen to, but you hesitated. That's your greatest weakness, the way you second-guess yourself about everything." He paused to glance at the sun, which was just tipping past its zenith and beginning its descent toward the horizon. "But a deal is a deal. Meet me by the lake at six o'clock. Bring snacks if you want them, because I sure as hell don't cook."

**...oOo...**

A soft breeze meandered across Godric's Hollow, rustling the high grass by the lake, as night fell. The fronds tickled Albus' skin where he lay buried in them, hands resting on his stomach. Gellert was stretched out beside him, head resting on his hands. The last tendrils of sunlight were vaulting across the sky in an array of colors, and as breathtaking as it was, it was nothing compared to the fact that they were there together.

Gellert stirred and grabbed a biscuit from the plate between them. Albus had to admit that they were quite good, mostly because he didn't make them. What use did a great wizard have for such skills? He had threatened Aberforth, at first, to no avail. Then, he had bribed his brother with the promise of a weekend shopping trip and a few coins to spend. Begrudgingly, Aberforth had agreed.

As the night drew a dark curtain over the Hollow, bullfrogs began to croak around them. Was this what a date was like? Albus had never really been on one before, so at least he had no expectations.

"You know what's missing here?" Gellert suddenly said. He pulled himself into a sitting position with a small grunt as he glanced around.

"What's that?" Albus propped himself up on his elbows.

"I've been trying to put my finger on it, and I think I've got it. There are no fireflies here."

"No, I don't believe I've ever seen fireflies in Godric's Hollow."

"There was a place back home. This time of year, there would be thousands of fireflies. They just swarm the place. Thousands of these little, blinking lights. Most amazing thing you'll ever see."

Albus could barely make out Gellert's face, even though they were right next to each other, but the memory shone bright enough through his words. Albus could almost see a giant, yawning field stretching out far into the distance, and an impossible number of lights pirouetting like a ballet in the night.

The grass rustled as Gellert moved to pick a handful of dandelion puffs. With a heavy exhale, he scattered the white seeds—little ghosts in the darkness. He drew his wand, swished it in a circular pattern, and suddenly the night was alight with twinkling green.

"I'm afraid it's not quite the same, but it'll do," Gellert said as he pocketed his wand again.

"It's perfect."

A few minutes passed in silence before Gellert spoke again.

"There's a big world out there, Albus. We could see it together."

_(Gellert didn't have to ask; Albus was willing to go with him from the start, but of course he already knew that. Albus knew something, too, the moment Gellert conceded an unnecessary loss.)_


	5. A Vow of Silence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: first kiss.

**[1901]**

"You shouldn't be here."

That seemed like a gross understatement, and Albus couldn't deny that it was true. Yet, there he was, in the same small, run-down shack that Gellert had been living out of for the past few months.

"I know," was all Albus could find to say.

He had spent plenty of time warring with himself about whether to come or not. When his world had shattered, Albus had been left scrambling to pick up the pieces. He had traveled the world, like he had always intended, to prepare himself for the future. It had felt empty, somehow, like all the promises the world used to hold had died back in Godric's Hollow. He had lost his sister; he had lost his brother. But he didn't  _have_  to lose the man that he loved.

"How did you find me?" Gellert asked as he closed all the shutters of the house, casting them into an all-consuming darkness that was held at bay only by the soft flicker of a candle. He cast a non-verbal  _Lumos_  and set his wand down on the table between them, bathing the room in a warm, white light.

"Magic?" Albus lowered himself into a chair in the corner as he spoke. He didn't feel like describing the whole process, and he certainly didn't want to explain about befriending Fawkes. That wasn't what he had come for, and he really couldn't be bothered.

Gellert simply raised his eyebrows and glanced sideways at Albus, dirty-blond curls falling in his face. Even after everything, Albus couldn't keep his heart from fluttering, though it ached at the same time. Things would never be the same between them, and that was, perhaps, the most devastating realization.

"Why have you come, Albus?"

"Because I can't do this anymore."

" _Then why are you here?!_ "

Gellert's voice boomed around the small room, and the outburst took Albus by surprise. When he looked into those steel-blue eyes, Gellert turned away and kicked one of the chairs hard enough to send it skittering across the floor. He swore under his breath, stepping deeper into the shadows as he worked to regain his temper.

For the past couple of years, Albus had not been suffering alone. He was just starting to realize it. They were both broken, but, like horcruxes, they kept each other alive. If one of them should die...

"You know, don't you? You saw it?" Albus' voice was barely a whisper, and it trembled a lot more than he cared to admit. His confidence quivered right along with it. Gellert glanced back towards him, the light lending an eerie glow to his face.

Gellert knew the truth; Albus was sure of it, and the fact was absolutely terrifying. Albus couldn't know. He didn't want to know. The guilt, such as it was, gnawed at his resolve and haunted him endlessly. Ariana's death was his fault, and he could live with that, but if he found out that it had been his spell, that he had...No, he would never recover from that. It would destroy him in every way.

Gellert never answered, but Albus could read everything clearly in the wizard's face—the knitted eyebrows, the wrinkled forehead, the clenched jaw, the drawn lips, the eyes. His eyes had always spoken volumes, from the moment they had met. Nothing had changed.

"You can't tell me, Gellert. You must promise me!" Albus stood up with such fervor that he knocked his chair backwards, and he let it clatter to the floor with a thunderclap of noise. "I can never know. If you should ever speak it, if you should so much as let something slip...Promise me!"

"I promise."

"No, it's no good. You're too impulsive. What if in your anger..." Albus shook his head and turned towards the wall. He shouldn't have come, but he had spent two years pretending like he could simply move on as if nothing happened. He couldn't. Now, more than ever, he knew he would never be able to move past Godric's Hollow.

"I won't utter a word. Not so long as you're around. Not ever."

There was a passionate sincerity infused in the tone, and Albus' defenses were failing. He trusted Gellert with his life. But what he was proposing, never speaking again in Albus' presence, proffering his voice for the sake of their relationship...It was a hefty sacrifice to make, but they never had required words to communicate.

"But how can I be sure—" Albus began.

There were strong hands on his shoulders, turning him around, and before he knew what was happening, lips were pressed tight to his—soft, strong. Then, Albus was melting into it, letting his emotion sweep him away. Albus' heart raced as Gellert's hands gripped his waist and pulled him closer. He parted his lips to let Gellert's tongue in—tentatively at first and then more fervently.

It was a vow sealed with a kiss—a first kiss, of all things—and Albus knew he could trust it, no matter what.

_(Gellert would break his vow of silence—just once—and it was every bit as devastating as Albus imagined it would be.)_


	6. Happy Birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Slice of life. I'm really bad at anything that borders on smut. Just saying. But hey, that's what practice is for, right? Yeah, no, it's just bad. Sorry. xD

**[1912]**

The dark, muddy liquid shifted lazily in the vial as Albus held it up to eye level. He shouldn't be doing this; he thought that every time, but it never stopped him. The pull was too great. Even if it was wrong, he'd prefer to dance in the flames, however briefly, than deny himself something that felt so right.

Albus dropped a few blond strands into the liquid—donated during a trip to London by a passing Muggle who was none-the-wiser. The potion bubbled a bit as he swished it, settling into a black, oily substance. It promised to be disgusting this time around, but they couldn't all be pleasant. There was never any guarantee when picking specimens blindly.

Bracing himself, Albus tipped back the Polyjuice Potion, wrinkling his nose as it hit his taste buds. It burned his throat slightly on the way down and tasted like licorice and grease. Not a particularly pleasant combination.

The change was immediate. His skin tanned and began to pucker with age. His hair was sucked into his head and replaced with a shorter, grayish-blond cut. His face began to itch as his beard receded, leaving him only with a bushy mustache. On the plus side, he also grew three inches, so it wasn't a complete loss.

Albus swapped his robes for a set of Muggle clothes he kept hidden in trunk at the foot of his bed. He loathed them and how restrictive they were, but there was no avoiding it. Robes would draw too much attention, and that was the last thing he wanted. The shirt was tolerable enough, made of a lighter fabric and ruffled at the sleeves, but the pants were bloody awful, and they rode up in all the wrong places.

"Fawkes, if I could bother you for a moment?" Albus said as he readjusted his britches for the dozenth time. The phoenix stood up on its roost and shook the sleep from its feathers, throwing shadows along the walls of the small room. "I need to go to Bulgaria. You know where."

The world was obscured by a flash of fire, and Albus' stomach lurched at the topsy-turvy feeling of space distorting around them. With another burst of flames, everything came back into focus, and Albus found himself in an alley of a small town somewhere in Bulgaria. It wasn't the same town as last time, but after a certain point, they had all begun to look alike.

"I can do the rest on my own, thank you, Fawkes. Fetch me again this evening, if you would?"

The phoenix issued a hesitant squawk. He was a proud creature, and he didn't particularly enjoy playing portkey, but Albus would make it up to him later.

He slipped into the street among the Muggles and let the flow carry him into the heart of the village. Gellert could be just about anywhere, but Albus would find him. It was like a sixth sense by now; something in him recognized Gellert's magic trail, even if it had grown stale. It grew stronger as he headed towards the poor side of town, and Albus went building by building until he was standing outside the right one. Gellert was just behind those walls; yes, he was sure of it.

There was still time to turn around and go back to Hogwarts. It wasn't too late. Light and Dark were never meant to be together. Then again, there was a bit of Dark in Albus and a bit of Light in Gellert, and in the end, they were both very much human. More than anything, he _needed_  this. Albus knew he would enter the house; he always did.

He didn't bother knocking, merely let himself in. Gellert knew he was there. Albus could feel it in the way his energy shifted slightly as if they were responding to each other. Gellert didn't even bother looking up from where he was standing hunched over a map.

It was for the best; Albus could feel the potion just starting to wear off, and reverting back was never pretty to watch. There were pops and swooshes as bits of him grew and shrank. His skin rippled and reformed itself. He inevitably had to lose the three inches he had gained, which was a shame. He rather enjoyed being the taller one for a change.

Gellert made it clear that he was in the middle of work and didn't want to be disturbed, so Albus paced the tiny room and entertained himself. Though, he couldn't help but notice that Gellert had grown into a rather fine wizard; he wore his age like a well-fitted suit. His shoulders had filled out and were now broad and strong enough to carry the whole world if he saw fit. Though he was starting to gray prematurely, the color lent a very noble air to his crown of golden curls. Even the several days' worth of stubble that lined his strong jaw suited him perfectly.

Grey eyes snapped up to glare at him, and Albus smiled innocently. Trying to hide his thoughts wouldn't do any good, and he heard Gellert's loud and clear.

_Be patient or go wait outside. I'm busy, and you're distracting me._

Gellert spent a lot of time traveling, learning from whomever he could and talking to whomever would listen. Albus admired that level of dedication and persistence, but he wasn't about to be dismissed so easily.

"Happy birthday, by the way. Thirty looks good on you," Albus said, and it did, as did the Muggle clothes Gellert was wearing. The white shirt that was unbuttoned at the top, the rolled up sleeves, the tight, black pants that hugged his frame as he bent over the table...

Gellert slammed his palm on the table, creating a gunshot of sound that reverberated around the tiny room, knocking some parchments onto the floor where he let them lie. Their eyes met briefly.

 _Asshole_.

Albus smiled, even as Gellert frowned; he'd won this time.

With a small pop, Gellert Apparated across the room. Strong hands forced Albus against the wall, and Gellert pinned him there with his body, erection pressed against his thigh. Hands nimbly unbuttoned his shirt, lips pressing hard against the bare skin of his shoulder. Albus bit his lip to stifle the groan that threatened to slip out. He fumbled with the buttons of Gellert's pants. Merlin, the things that bloody Muggles invented! How bothersome.

Gellert shoved his hands away and pushed closer, kissing him on the lips lightly once and then harder. Albus let his tongue in, relishing the taste of the man he loved—salty from meat and bitter from coffee.

Albus pushed Gellert away, savoring how those gray eyes darkened like storm clouds when he was denied his way. Albus tried the Muggle pants again and finally conquered the button, letting them fall away to the floor as he forced Gellert on to the bed.

They warred over dominance in-between kisses and bites and bruising holds that would have to be covered up in the morning when they went back to their lives. Albus lost in the end, conquered by Gellert's overpowering will, but surrendering to a man one loved could hardly be considered a loss.

Pressed together, their bodies merging into one, Gellert shuddered as he climaxed, and Albus couldn't hold in his moan. It was humbling, sharing such a vulnerable moment, a brief glimpse of a softer side of an otherwise powerful wizard that was Albus' alone to covet.

When they were spent, they laid together for just a few minutes, chests heaving as the day started to dim outside the window. Their hearts beat in parallel, and an overwhelming rush of passion and magic joined them in ways more powerful than sex.

Gellert was the first to get up wordlessly, the way it had been for the past decade since his vow, and pulled on his pants before returning to work. Albus missed hearing Gellert's voice, but he had the man. It was a sacrifice he was willing to make.

_(Albus pretended to know nothing about Gellert Grindelwald besides what "The Daily Prophet" reported whenever he was asked. Their relationship was simply one of a number of Albus' dark secrets and one of the few light ones that Gellert possessed.)_


	7. War and Peace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: first child. Yeah, this was a bit weird for Gellert and Albus sooo...I winged it.

**[1939]**

Muggles were such a crude, brash population. When left to their own devices, they inevitably proved time and time again how incapable they were of governing themselves. That was the conclusion Gellert came to, not for the first time, as he walked through the rubble of what used to be a city called Wieluń. Thanks to German bombs, a majority of the buildings were destroyed.

Most of the citizens wandered around in a stupor, many of them bloodied or covered in dust. Their eyes were wide and unseeing, trying to cope with the reality of war. It wasn't pretty, but it shouldn't have been that surprising, either. Muggles were good at making war, and yet they always pretended to know nothing of it.

Gellert stopped in front of what used to be a home, summoned by a muffled wailing that was emanating from the rubble. Should he simply pretend not to hear it like the Muggles that passed by? It was clearly an infant, and if it had the gumption to survive a bombing, the least he could do was dig it out of the rubble.

Gellert pulled himself onto the debris, careful not to cause it to shift. With a quick glance around to make sure no one was looking—if they wouldn't stop for a baby, they surely wouldn't pay him any mind—he levitated the boards and junk out of the way. Underneath them was a bruised and slightly bloody child that looked to be about a year old. Beside him were two half-buried corpses, presumably the boy's parents.

Gellert turned back to the street, where nobody even noticed him. Judging by the undeniable reek, the child had soiled its nappy. Perfect. And he was filthy and disgusting. And he was probably hungry. What did Gellert know of feeding children? He glanced back at the baby, whose steady wail had settled into a stream of sobs. Well, he certainly couldn't just leave the thing there, not after making the effort to dig it out.

"Hey, you. Did you know this family?" Gellert called to an older woman as she passed by. The woman furrowed her brow and rattled off a string of words in a foreign language. Of course. They spoke Polish in Poland. Gellert switched languages and asked again. The woman shook her head and shrugged before continuing on her way.

The next five people he asked reacted the same way, so he asked another five. No one seemed to know much about the couple that had lived there. They were new to town, younger, kept to themselves, a bit weird. Just great. That left him with no leads and one crying Muggle child. What a hell of a way to start the day.

**...oOo...**

Albus was curious, at first, when Fawkes disappeared rather suddenly from his roost at Hogwarts and then returned a few moments later. In his beak was a piece of parchment with coordinates.

"Thank you, Fawkes. I can take it from here," he said as he pitched the correspondence into the fire.

Likely thankful for the reprieve, Fawkes twittered happily and settled back onto his roost for a nap. Albus patted his head before grabbing some Floo and turning to the fireplace. Thirteen, he decided. Thirteen apparations would be enough to ensure he wasn't followed. Stepping into the fire, he said, "Diagon Alley," as he dropped the green powder.

In a burst of green flames, he was swept across England, and from there, he immediately began apparating. He counted the jumps. One: Godric's Hollow. Two: a small town in Wales. Three: Mould-in-the-Wold. Four: the middle of nowhere in the Scottish Highlands. He kept counting, starting to move east with each jump, until he landed in some out-of-the-way town in Poland at the coordinates he was given.

Gellert leapt to his feet as soon as he arrived, holding a bundle of something out to him, making sure to keep it at arm's length at all times. After a few seconds, Albus realized it was a baby, and Merlin, did it ever stink!

"Why haven't you changed the poor thing? It's not good for them to sit in that, you know."

Gellert glowered at him, and Albus fought the urge to roll his eyes. Not being good with children was one thing, but were they not supposedly great wizards and geniuses to boot? Dark Wizard Gellert Grindelwald, brought to his knees by an infant with a dirty nappy. What would the world think of that? Gellert must have been reading his thoughts, because his face darkened and the air around them grew thick and heavy in response.

"Fine. Give him here."

Albus laid the baby on the ground, pulled his nappy off, cast a quick  _scourgify_ , and had the nappy back on in less than a minute. He stood, swaying the child on his hip, and glanced at Gellert, who cocked his eyebrows.

"I grew up with two younger siblings. This is far from the first nappy I've ever changed." Once the words were out, Albus regretted saying them, because the memories were heavy and it was like reopening a wound that had never fully healed. So, he changed the subject again, before the guilt could overwhelm them both. "What's his story?"

In flashes of memories, Gellert shared his discovery of the boy—the destruction of the first attacks of a fresh war, the confusion of the Muggles that lived there, the remains of the child's house and family—as well as Gellert's inability to find someone to take him.

"Muggle or Wizard?"

_Wizard._

"How can you be so sure?"

Gellert snatched the teddy out of the pudgy, little hands, and the child immediately started to wail. A minute later, once his face had turned a deep scarlet color, the teddy flew back into his arms, and he quieted back down.

"He'll need a name."

With a quick jerking motion, Gellert brandished his wand. Casting a non-verbal  _flagrate_ , he wrote the name in fire in the air.

_Johan._

"Why Johan?"

Albus could read the reasoning on his face: in the lift of his brows, the half-smile on his lips, and the amusement in his eyes.

_Aren't all German boys named Johan?_

They were, as always, of the same mind. They would send him to Germany, where they both knew of a lovely Wizard couple unable to have their own children who desperately wanted one.

This was a child they shared, almost like a child of their own, as ridiculous a notion as that was. But, at the moment, they were the only parents he had, and he was their secret, like so many others they shared. But they couldn't raise a baby. It wasn't even a possibility, and he needed a  _real_  family.

This way, they could come and go as they pleased, visit when they wanted, and Albus trusted the Steins. They were good people who would keep the secret.

"Then it's decided. His name will be Johan Albert Grindelwald."

Gellert raised his eyebrows as a flicker of amusement lit his features.

"The Albert is for Albus and Gellert. A reminder. And, of course, you were the one who found him. It's only fitting that he take your name."

Not just that. Albus couldn't stand the thought of passing on the Dumbledore name. It was fitting, in a way, that it should die with Aberforth and him. Gellert nodded and turned to go.

"You will go visit him, won't you?" Albus asked, but Gellert just waved dismissively over his shoulder before apparating away.

_(When asked about his parents growing up, Johan would respond dutifully about how he cared for Adolph and Berta Stein, and every word he said was true. But he only really considered them to be his guardians, and he loved his parents even more—the ones he was named after.)_


	8. Till Death Do Us Part

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: wedding. Still trying to keep this somewhat close to canon, so it took me forever to figure out how Albus and Gellert would have a "wedding" considering, one, they never got married and, two, they couldn't legally get married anyway. So this was my solution. Also, this is horribly full of fluff. I could stuff a whole fleet of Gellert plushies with the amount of fluff here. You have been warned.

**[1944]**

Albus had been looking forward to summer break ever since September 1st. It wasn't that he hated his job or the kids. For a career he had never even wanted in the first place, it hadn't turned out half bad. But classes were stressful, and there was constant pressure from the Ministry, and there were always so many rumors swirling about. Summers, though, summers were easy.

But as Albus stepped up to a small house in Germany, after having let himself in through the fence and made sure all the proper protection wards were still in place, he knew his summer had suddenly become quite complicated.

He paused outside the door. The air was heavy and suffocating, and it made his heart flutter just as much now as it had the first time he had stepped into that overbearing aura. Albus didn't want to face Gellert now, after spending the whole year convincing the Ministry that his hands were tied at Hogwarts and that they really didn't need him, after all, to handle Dark Wizard Grindelwald.

The world would never understand them. Light and Dark were never meant to be together, even though Albus was far from Light, nor was Gellert nearly as Dark as society deemed him. Besides, the moon and sky made it work just fine.

Summoning his courage and pushing back against Gellert's aura, Albus rapped lightly on the door with his knuckles—once, three times, and then twice.

A middle-aged, plump woman answered the door, whisking a few strands of hair from her face.

"Albus! I wasn't expecting you today, though I can't say I'm surprised. Come, come. In you go," Berta practically shoved him through the door and closed it behind him. "You know, Gellert got here an hour ago. It's so nice that you could be here together, with everything that's going on. We do try to make sure Johan doesn't hear anything, but it's not always easy, and he misses you both so."

"Yes, I can imagine it's rough on him. You're an angel, as always."

"Oh, you know it's my pleasure. Johan means everything to me—to us. They're right in there."

Berta motioned towards the small family room at the back of the house, and Albus excused himself as he headed in that direction. He leaned against the door frame quietly, content to just watch for a few minutes before letting them know he was there.

Gellert was propped up on his side, stretched out along the carpet and barefoot, looking so much like he had back at Godric's Hollow despite how much time had passed. Johan was next to him, holding Gellert's old wand and creating a trail of sparks in the air. It was all the magic the boy was capable for the time being, but he enjoyed the colors, and he had found months ago that he could manipulate them however he wanted.

Gellert was the first to look up, and when their eyes met, Albus' breath hitched. A half-smile played across those thin lips, and Albus found himself smiling along. Like nothing had ever happened between them. Like the rest of the world didn't exist. It never had, so long as they were together.

Johan was on his feet in an instant and launched himself so hard at Albus' waist that he was nearly bowled over.

"Papa Albus! I knew you must be here when Papa Gellert stopped talking."

Little fingers closed on his, and Albus allowed himself to be dragged into the small room. He stretched out beside Gellert, who shifted over slightly to give him room.

"Look, look! Papa Gellert brought me a toy thestral!" Johan held the figurine up proudly. "Thestrals are my favorite! Do you think Mutti and Vati would let me have one if I promise to take care of it?"

"In my professional opinion, I do not," Albus said with a small chuckle.

Johan looked crestfallen, but Gellert whipped his wand from his sleeve and lightly tapped the figurine. In jerky motions, it started moving, becoming more fluid until it was a life-like miniature thestral galloping and flying around the room. The boy's gray eyes lit up as he watched it.

"Do you have thestrals at Hogwarts?" Johan asked, not bothering to peel his eyes from the figurine.

"No, we don't."

"You should get some. They're brilliant!"

"I might just have to do that."

Johan continued playing, chasing the thestral around the room, and Albus turned his attention to Gellert. He looked much older than when they had last seen each other, with the gray hairs becoming more pervasive and time wearing lines into his face. Somehow, he hadn't lost his boyish charm, though, and his eyes were as bright and clear as ever. Their eyes met, but the connection was disrupted as Johan collapsed onto the floor between them.

"Did you know that next week is Mutti and Vati's anniversary?"

"Is it? I'm sure you'll do something nice for them to celebrate, yes?"

"Of course!" Johan glanced around to make sure no one else could hear before leaning in and whispering, "I'm going to put on a magic show. But you can't tell them! I can make lots of pretty things happen now. I've been practicing." Johan sat back on his heels and nibbled his lower lip for a minute. "Papa Albus, can I ask you something?"

"Of course. What is it?"

"Why aren't you and Papa Gellert married?"

"Uh...well..."

Albus glanced over at Gellert, who was trying to hold in a laugh. When their eyes met, he just shook his head slowly.

_This one's all yours._

"Well, Johan, it's just...complicated."

"Mutti says she married Vati because they were in love. You love each other, don't you?"

Love. There was that word again. Did he love Gellert? It was...complicated. Of course he  _loved_ him. Even after everything, despite everything. But was love enough? Was love ever enough? The people he loved had a tendency of getting hurt.

"I suppose so, but—"

"Then it's decided!" Johan jumped to his feet. "You two just have to get married. Today."

"Johan, that's not—"

"I'm gonna go tell Mutti! I know she'll help out."

Before Albus could dissuade him, Johan darted out of the room to find his mother. Gellert was watching, a smirk plastered on his face, but he remained silent as always. Albus finally glanced sideways at him, and he just shook his head slowly.

 _Good talk. If that's how you handle children and their questions, Merlin save Hogwarts should you ever become Headmaster_.

**...oOo...**

Albus was horribly uncomfortable standing in dress robes that weren't quite his size, kindly donated by Adolph. Gellert was standing across from him, as suave as always, amused by the whole situation. Albus would have expected a stronger reaction from him, but he took everything in stride. If ever it was said he had a weak spot, it was undoubtedly Johan, whether he would admit it or not. Of course he would never deny the boy's request.

Their eyes met, and Albus couldn't help but grin at the sentiment.

_By no means are you to assume that I am the wife in this relationship._

Adolph took his place as officiant, standing beneath an arch of flowers in the backyard that had been transfigured last minute for this occasion. Johan had guided all the decorations. Even if he couldn't perform magic himself, he still had a vision. That would explain why the guests consisted of his stuffed animals and various figurines and toys as well as a spot up front reserved for Berta. The wedding cake was chocolate, Johan's favorite, and had been thrown together last minute.

"Do you, Gellert, take Albus to have and to hold , for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?" Adolph asked, doing his best to modify the vows as he went.

Gellert nodded, and Johan, who was standing between them, clapped eagerly.

"Do you, Albus, take Gellert to have and to hold, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?"

Albus nodded, because if Gellert was only able to give silent approval, then he would do the same.

"Then I now pronounce you...uh...married Wizards. You may now kiss the, uh, well, just get on with it."

Albus' heart raced as they faced each other. It was quite a wondrous thing how even after so long, after everything they had been through, Gellert still made him feel like that silly, naïve boy back in Godric's Hollow so long ago who was just learning about life and love.

Sure, the marriage was fake; obviously two men could never get married. The world would never allow it. But the emotions were real, and as Albus tasted Gellert's tongue with his own, he knew the vows were real enough, too. For better or worse, wrong or right, they were bonded until death parted them.

_(Even death did not truly have the power to part them, because there was one unspoken vow that both Albus and Gellert understood: if you should die, I would follow.)_


	9. An Anniversary To Remember

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Anniversary

**[1945]**

Albus was so convinced that he had been fooling everyone when, in reality, he had fooled no one. Not even himself. The problem wouldn't magically go away on its own, regardless of how much he wished it were so.

With a wave of his wand, he released the charms sealing his desk and pulled open the bottom drawer. It was empty. Albus glanced up at Fawkes, who was too busy preening himself to pay him any mind.

"Probably for the best that you've hidden the Firewhiskey," Albus sighed, even though he cursed the phoenix for his foresight. "I suppose it wouldn't do to have me wandering about in a drunken stupor."

There was no denying that it had been a long time coming, and it was impossible to forgo the inevitable. But could he do it? Never mind the fact that Gellert was the better duelist to start with, would Albus be able to live with himself after what he had to do?

"Are you sure I can't bribe you for a nip?"

Fawkes ruffled his feathers with an indignant squawk but paid him no mind. Stubborn bird.

The atmosphere at Hogwarts was stifling: too many people expecting too much of him. Albus needed to escape. There was only one place that he could think of that was a welcome refuge from the chaos of the world.

Albus threw some Floo powder in the fireplace and stuck his head in to make a call. When he was given the all-clear, he tossed in another handful of powder and stepped into the flames.

When Albus emerged on the other end, he was surprised to find Adolph, and not Berta, waiting. The man, normally so put-together, was horribly disheveled, clothes wrinkled and hair reduced to fly-aways, brandishing a glass of Firewhiskey on the rocks.

"Berta went to fetch Johan." Adolph paused to take a long gulp. "Care for a belt?"

"I shouldn't," Albus sighed, even though he very much wanted to say yes. Attempting to drown his problems would solve nothing, though he ventured a guess that it'd make it  _seem_  better, at the very least.

"Look, this may not be a good time, and I'm sure this isn't what you want to hear, but Gellert was here earlier. He left this for you."

Adolph held out a slip of paper between his knuckles, emptying the rest of his drink as he did so. That didn't give Albus much confidence about whatever was on the paper, though it did explain the sober atmosphere of the household, despite the alcohol.

Albus took it carefully and unfolded it. A set of coordinates was scrawled on it in familiar handwriting, and that was it.

"He said it was for the greater good. Said you'd understand."

Albus did understand, even though he wished he didn't. They had always been of one mind, him and Gellert, so Albus couldn't say it was all that surprising that they had come to the same conclusion. But did it  _have_  to be today? Was he really ready for this? Merlin, he needed a drink.

Before Albus could surrender to the temptation, Johan came bounding into the room and grabbed his hand.

"I knew you'd come today. Papa Gellert was here earlier, but he didn't stay very long. Oh, but can we play outside? Please, can we?"

Outside? Yes, a little fresh air might be good. The house had become stiflingly small all of a sudden, and escaping was the best idea he'd heard all day. So he let Johan tug him outside and watched the boy running around the yard, shooting sparks out of Gellert's old wand. He looked so happy and innocent, and Albus was about to shatter his entire world. He made as good a father as he did a brother, and he excelled at neither. How ever would he tell Johan that the man he loved and idolized would never return?

On his seventh—or was it eighth now—trip around the house, Johan collapsed on the grass next to Albus, rolling with peals of laughter.

"Are you going to see Papa Gellert tonight?" he asked, looking up at Albus from his spot on the ground.

A knot formed in Albus' chest that made it difficult to breathe. Even outside, it felt like everything was caving in on him, like the sun and clouds themselves were conspiring to crush him under the weight.

"Why would you think that?" Albus asked, trying to keep his voice as steady as possible. Luckily, Johan didn't seem to notice anything was amiss. There was certainly something to be said for the innocence of childhood, at the very least.

"Don't tell me you forgot." Johan rolled onto his stomach, mouth agape. "You did! You totally forgot!"

"I would never. But if I had, what exactly is it that I would have forgotten?"

"It's your anniversary! Don't you remember? You and Papa Gellert got married exactly a year ago."

Had it been a year already? It seemed more like five. Albus had forgotten, and he wished that no one had reminded him. It would've made the day easier. No, he couldn't do it. Not on their anniversary, of all days. He shouldn't. Still...

Albus fingered the scrap of paper in his pocket, and it was like there was no distance at all between him and Gellert. This wasn't a coincidence. Nothing they did ever was. It had to be today. Maybe if he said it enough times, at some point he'd start to believe it.

**...oOo...**

He wasn't ready for it. No amount of coaxing could stop his hands from trembling and his pulse from racing. They had been there plenty of times before, equals in every way, but this wasn't Godric's Hollow, and they weren't teenagers anymore. Life had a way of making things complicated.

"This has to end," Albus called across the distance between them. The words were thick and heavy, like his throat was trying to close before they could slip out.

"Then end it."

Those weren't the words he wanted to hear, but Albus drew his wand anyway. He had no idea how long the duel lasted. As far as he was concerned, nothing existed except for him, Gellert, and their wands. The rest of the world melted away, and he felt seventeen again, staring across into the stormy gray eyes of the man he loved.

Reading his mind was easier now than ever, almost like they were one and the same. Albus dragged it out for as long as he could because, if he were honest, he didn't want it to end. The connection they had was as strong as it had always been, and once it was broken, it would never be the same again. Would he be able to survive that?

A crowd had gathered. Albus became mildly aware that they were no longer alone, even though it still felt like the world revolved around them. Came to see a hero, most likely, but he was no hero. He didn't even want to be mistaken for one.

Then the spells faltered, just for a split second, but enough for him to notice it. Gellert was getting his attention. It had been 44 years since Albus last heard his voice, but he regretted nothing in that time because they had spent it together. Until now. Some part of him wished Gellert hadn't said anything, that the promise he made 44 years ago still meant something and that they would keep fighting—together, against the world—for what they believed in.

"Happy anniversary."

Then, the smallest slip, one that onlookers never would have noticed but which Albus would relive over and over in his nightmares. In a flash, Gellert was bound and his wand was claimed by a new owner.

When the Ministry showed up and began debating how to handle Dark Wizard Grindelwald, through the fog and disbelief, Albus managed to say, "He should serve a life sentence in Nurmengard."

It was the worst punishment he could have suggested, Albus knew that, but there was no avoiding it. If something should happen to Gellert, he would follow, as much now as a year ago. For better or worse, they were bonded till death.

(Neither of them would forget their anniversary again, but neither would ever celebrate it, either.)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: This collection is drawing to an end! It's been a fun run, and goodness knows I've enjoyed writing all this Grindeldore. :) Thanks to everyone who's read to this point. Also, this is horribly, disgustingly fluffy and comes, probably, from my desire to see a sort of "happily awhile after" idea where the world is still OK, for a time, before everything goes to hell again. Prompt: first grandchild.

**[1957]**

Albus stared at the invitation in his hands, which was what he'd been doing since it had been delivered that morning with the owl post. Johan was getting married, and Albus hadn't even known he'd been dating anyone. That meant he had been hiding it all this time, despite how close they were supposed to be.

But that wasn't even the worst part of it. The thing that bothered Albus the most was the fact that the woman Johan intended to marry was Ariana Dumbledore. He thought it was some sick, cruel joke at first, but who would know enough to send it? Despite the flutter in his stomach and the hard lump in his chest, Albus had to quell his emotions until he had a chance to slip away that evening.

Albus didn't make a habit out of showing up unannounced at the Steins', yet no one seemed the least bit surprised when he stepped out of the fireplace.

"Oh, Albus!" Berta wailed as soon as he emerged, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. Judging by her red, puffy face and smeared makeup, she'd been at it a while already. "Can you believe our little boy is all grown up? He's getting m-m-married!"

"Now, now, Berta," Adolph interrupted, putting his arm around her shoulders. "Albus isn't here to listen to you break down yet again. Johan!"

"Yeah, Vati?" Johan poked his head around the corner. As soon as he saw Albus, he grinned and entered the room. "Papa! I hoped you'd come when you got the invite. You're probably mad I didn't tell you. Are you mad?"

"Of course I'm not mad, though I can't say I'm not more than just a little confused."

"I wanted to tell you, honest I did. When I first met Ari, I asked if she was related to you, but she didn't seem to know you at all. It wasn't until I met her father that I knew for sure, and, well, he forbade me to tell you. And I really wanted him to like me, because I just knew that I'd marry her some day."

"I understand."

Albus forced himself to smile, for Johan's sake, but none of it made any sense. There was only one man he could think of who would name their daughter Ariana, but he had no children. As far as Albus knew, he'd never had any real relationships, and certainly none that had lasted. Well, not unless you counted his goats.

"Wait here just a minute," Johan said, holding up his hands and motioning for Albus to stay put. He disappeared through the doorway back into the kitchen only to return a moment later with a girl on his arm.

From the moment he laid eyes on her, everything made perfect sense to Albus. She had inherited the Dumbledore eyes, and she was the spitting image of her father and aunt. She was small and delicate yet with an air of dignity and quiet ferocity about her. Fair, long hair cascaded down her back, and she carried herself in a way that more resembled floating than walking.

The last woman Aberforth had loved, he had lost because of Albus' recklessness. Albus understood his desire to keep this one to himself. Not because she was born out of wedlock. Not because he was ashamed. It was because he didn't want to give Albus the chance to take away someone else that he cared about, and Albus' heart ached with the realization.

"It's lovely to meet you, Ariana," Albus whispered, planting a kiss on the back of her hand.

It was fitting, he decided as he watched them that night, that a Dumbledore and a Grindelwald should end up together. Albus hoped that life afforded them all the happiness that he had been denied and then some.

**...oOo...**

**[1959]**

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. I'm certain you don't take your duties as headmaster lightly, but you can't possibly be considering missing the Sorting!"

Minerva definitely had a quiet dignity about her—until she got indignant. She didn't make a particularly quiet, angry witch, but Albus enjoyed her company just the same, even as she fixed him in those hawkish, blue eyes, hands firmly on her hips.

"Of course not. I'll be Flooing out as soon as the Start-of-Term Feast has finished. I can't say when I'll be back. Not more than a day or two. I assume you can cover me until then?"

Minerva pursed her lips, but her stance softened ever so slightly.

"I suppose you won't tell me what this is about?"

"I wouldn't be leaving if it weren't important, I assure you."

"Very well, then. It doesn't appear I have any say in the matter."

"Thank you, Minerva. You're reliable as ever."

Minerva humphed as she turned to leave, and Albus smiled. He couldn't have a better staff under him, and he was thankful for each one of them. But that wasn't the only thing he had to be thankful for. The owl had just arrived. Ariana had gone into labor. It was going to be a long day as headmaster, and the thought of meeting his first grandchild was the only thing that kept Albus going.

When night finally fell, Albus retired to his office. He was ready for this, or so he told himself. His hands were trembling as he threw the Floo powder in the fire and called out, "Diagon Alley." He Apparated the rest of the way to Germany, which required more and more stops along the way. He wasn't getting any younger, that was for sure.

When Albus arrived at the hospital, he made a beeline for the birthing ward. In the waiting room, Berta and Adolph were passed out in adjoining chairs, leaning against each other. They looked exhausted.

Johan entered a moment later, placing a finger against his lips and motioning for Albus to follow. When they were in the next hallway, he explained, "They finally passed out. I thought they'd never sleep. Mutti's been fawning over the baby all day and making all these plans about what they're going to do together. Vati hasn't really said too much. I think he's still in shock about the whole thing."

They stopped before a glass room, and Johan pointed to a little, pink bundle.

"That's ours. Looks like her mother, doesn't she? Amalia Katrine Grindelwald."

Albus had never been one for babies. Not when his siblings were born, not even when Gellert had approached him with an orphan. True, he could care for them—that part was easy—but they were so fragile, and all they did was lay there and spew any number of nasty things from their orifices.

Even so, Albus was convinced that the baby girl before him was easily the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

**...oOo...**

Gellert shielded his eyes against the flash of light that engulfed the darkness of his cell. If Fawkes was visiting him, that must mean Johan was now a father. Gellert both loathed and loved, in equal measure, the infrequent updates the phoenix brought him. The world passed by without him, and he missed everything, all the most important moments. Still, he hadn't been forgotten, at least.

"Thank you, Fawkes," he said as he took the parchment from the phoenix's beak and carefully unwrapped it. A picture fell out, floating to the stone, and Gellert bent down to inspect it. They had indeed grown up, even in the two years since the couple got married. A Dumbledore and a Grindelwald. What were the odds?

"A girl," Gellert muttered as he picked the picture up and glanced over the note. "Amalia, huh?"

If they had no other children, that meant both the Grindelwald and Dumbledore lines would, once again, go extinct.  _Maybe that's for the best_ , he thought as he sunk into a corner, staring at the picture. The world was changing—for the better, he hoped, although he was smart enough to know that wasn't often the case—and this was now his future. The only one that still meant anything, at least.


End file.
